by Joel Skelton
“Harper only has his grandmother. She lives in Iowa.” Ian thought for a second before continuing. “I can call her when I know more. She’s elderly, I believe, and hasn’t met me yet.”
“If that’s the case, then I’ll leave the decision when and how to communicate with her up to you. I know what you must be going through, Ian… and Andy,”—the chaplain made a point to include them both—“so I don’t want to waste time before we talk about Mr. Callahan.”
Ian was relieved he didn’t have to spend any more time validating his relationship. He’d heard horror stories circulating about other men whose relationships had been ignored in situations like this.
“Mr. Callahan is in our trauma bay right now. We can go there if you’d like, but I have to caution you, it can be a very dramatic experience if you’re not prepared for it. Your partner was wounded both in the arm and in the chest. There will most likely be evidence of blood loss. I suspect they are in the process of stabilizing him and doing a surgical evaluation. That’s as much as I can tell you.”
Ian thought about what had been proposed. “I’d like to see him.” He looked over to Andy for his approval.
“Are you sure you can handle it?” Andy rubbed his shoulder. “I don’t think I can, Ian. I’m sorry, but I don’t do well in situations like that.”
“I know.” Ian brought his hand up to his mouth in an attempt to stop the intense wave of emotion resulting from the mention of Harper wounded and bleeding. “You don’t do well around blood.” He reached for Andy’s hand.
“I’ll go into the trauma bay with you and remain there for as long as needed,” the chaplain offered. “There are vending machines right around the corner if you need anything while we are away,” he informed Andy. “Let’s go find out how your friend is doing. You’ll need to wear this.” The chaplain handed him a clip-on badge, stood, and held open the door.
Ian gave Andy’s hand a squeeze and got up from his chair. “It’s okay. I’ll be fine.” He wiped his eyes on his sleeve and then clipped the badge to his shirt pocket.
Chaplain Willie led the way past the Emergency Room entrance, through double doors to an area which resembled more of what he had expected. Medical personnel moved about them with purpose as they stopped before another set of doors.
“This is what we call the trauma bay or the stabilization area. Unless something has changed very recently, your partner is the only patient being treated. There are four bays in the room. It would be my guess he will be over to the left when we enter. I will try to find out more for you when we are inside. Please do not approach your friend unless I or one of the doctors gives permission. They are focused on his care, and the last thing we want to do is get in their way.” Willie paused, forcing Ian to acknowledge he understood what he was being told.
“I understand.” He braced himself.
Chaplain Willie opened the door, and as he had speculated, a team of medical people were huddled over someone in a bay directly to their left. Willie quickly guided him over to the other side of the room, out of the way of the activity. Ian could not have imagined what he was now witnessing. There was blood, Harper’s blood, pooled on the floor directly below the table where he was being worked on. Ian felt his knees begin to shake as he came to grips with the scene unfolding before him.
“The small screen they are looking at is the sonogram. I would guess they are trying to assess the damage caused by the bullet and are now determining whether or not the bullet can be removed or left where it is.” The chaplain leaned in, keeping his voice low.
Left where it is? Did I hear him right? Everyone is too relaxed. Do more. Fix him now!
Frustrated and powerless, he struggled to trust all was being done to keep Harper alive. He did his best to keep up with the discussion going on between the hospital staff. Unless he was mistaken, they had determined the bullet would be removed and were preparing to move Harper to the OR. He caught glimpses of Harper as bodies shifted in front of him. His skin, what wasn’t stained with blood, looked so pale and lifeless. The shirt he’d been wearing was gone, and the tie Ian had picked out the night before lay bunched up in the corner. Dark stains littered his navy suit pants. He felt the nausea returning but didn’t have a second to think about it. Willie grabbed him by the arm and steered him further back into the room. Seconds later, they were moving Harper toward another set of double doors at the opposite end of the room. As if planned in advance, the process was stalled for a brief moment directly in front of them.
“Harper!” Ian cried out, while at the same time a strong hand landed on his shoulder, holding him back.
“ONCE Mr. Callahan is out of the OR, I’ll be able to bring you to the recovery room. You can stay with him unless for some reason something unexpected occurs. Why don’t you wait in here with your friend, and I’ll stop back when he’s been moved.”
Ian exploded into the room and kicked a chair, sending it flying into the corner before realizing Spencer, Allison, and a stranger were all waiting with Andy. “They need to try harder.”
“Ian.” Allison jumped out of her chair. She took him in her arms and held him.
Ian couldn’t hold back any longer. He began to cry in her arms. “They can’t let him die.”
“Ian, they’re calm because they know what they’re doing. They’re very good at what they do here.” Allison’s words somehow managed to slice through his anger and provide comfort.
“He’s alive,” he managed to get out between sobs. “He’s being operated on. I’m sorry I’m such a mess. Thanks for coming.” Forcing himself to stop crying, he took his seat next to Andy, who wrapped his arm around him. “I saw him. I think he saw me.” He fought to stay in control. “The chaplain told me, oh God, he told me it was going about as well as could be expected. He can’t die.”
Andy held him tight to his chest as he cried. He could hear Allison crying. Through tears he saw Spencer was holding her. The stranger was crying too. He didn’t have anyone to hold him, he thought.
“Ian, this is Brent, Harper’s assistant. He was with Harper at the courthouse,” Andy explained after Ian had regained control.
Ian walked over to Brent, who stood and offered his hand. He ignored it and took Brent into his arms.
“Do you know what happened?” Ian asked, keeping his hand on Brent’s shoulder as they sat.
“I saw Mrs. Flynn come up the steps. She’s been at the firm several times in the last few weeks. I knew she was angry, but I never would have guessed…. I’m sorry.” Brent shook his head from side to side. “I heard the shot, and at first,”—his eyes welled up as he continued—“at first I thought she had missed, but there was this splattering noise, and I looked down at the steps and my shoes, and they were sprayed with….” Brent leaned forward in his chair and fought to stay in control.
Ian took the young man’s hand in his own. Something inside of him, as awful as it was to hear, wanted Brent to continue. He wanted, needed to know.
“Harper made this awful sound, and then he went down on his knees. I heard screaming, and people were running all around us. I dived behind Harper because I was scared….”
“It’s okay.” Ian patted him on the knee, struggling to keep the visual that was forming in his head from turning horrific. “All of us would have been terrified.”
“Then I could see two men had the crazy woman restrained. About the same time, Harper fell backward, and I ended up with his head in my lap. He was moaning and swearing at Mrs. Flynn. I could tell he was in a lot of pain. I think he might have passed out, but I’m not sure because the paramedics got there. A man and woman. They asked me if I was all right, and I told them I was, and then they had me scoot out of the way. They asked Harper a few questions, but I couldn’t hear what he said. They hooked him up to oxygen and some sort of IV. I just stayed there on my knees and watched them work.”
Ian fought off images of Harper in pain, lying on the steps. It was more than he could deal with right now. He needed to
get past this part of the story, so he asked, “Did you ride over here in the ambulance with Harper?”
“No. I wanted to, but they wouldn’t let me. They asked me if I knew of any previous medical conditions when they were loading him from that board onto the stretcher, or whatever you call it. I didn’t think he had any, I told them. Harper’s never sick. Did you get to see him?”
“Yeah.” He gave Brent’s hand a squeeze. “At least for now, they have him stabilized. He was being wheeled into the operating room. I guess the bullet went through his arm and into his chest. They wanted to take it out. The chaplain said someone would be in to update us on his condition. How are you holding up?” Ian reached over and rubbed Brent’s shoulder.
“I’m okay. It was so terrible. It all happened so quickly, there was nothing anyone could do to prevent it. Do you like the bracelet?” Brent pointed to Ian’s wrist. “I helped pick it out.”
“Yes, very much. I liked the toothbrush even better. Did Harper tell you what he did?”
Brent nodded and managed a small smile. “People don’t know how thoughtful he can be until they get to know him. He’s a great boss.”
He could tell at a glance what Harper meant to this guy. “Harper has mentioned you several times. We haven’t known each other for very long. You probably know that already.”
“Harper talked about you in the car on the way over to the courthouse this afternoon. I could hear the happiness in his voice.”
Brent’s comment made him smile, but it quickly left his face when he realized the assistant’s shirt was bloodstained, and so were his hands. Ian tried to talk, but he was incapable of forming words. He sat back in his chair and took in a few deep breaths. Everyone in the room traded silent looks. All they could do at that point was wait it out.
“Does anyone want anything?” Allison stood and walked to the door. “I’m going for a soda. Speak up. I have a half-million dollars’ worth of loose change in my purse.”
“Yeah, I’ll take a soda,” Andy said.
“Me too,” Spencer and Ian both said at the same time.
“Brent?” Allison asked. “Can I bring you something?”
“Sure, I’d like a soda.” Brent fished in his pockets, but Allison stopped him.
“I got it. No worries. Does everyone want diet something?”
Ian nodded along with everyone else. Allison stepped out of the room.
Lost in the moment, Ian glanced up at the clock. He was surprised to see it was past seven. He’d already been here for several hours. This whole thing was a nightmare. How many walls separated him from Harper? Would Harper be paralyzed? Would he make it though surgery without any complications? His stomach cramped as he weathered the thought. Never before had he experienced such profound terror. And the strangest thing was, three weeks ago he hadn’t even known who Harper Callahan was.
Allison returned with their sodas, and they waited another twenty minutes in silence before a noise outside the door of the waiting room caught their attention.
A tall, striking woman in scrubs with long red hair walked in. “I’m Dr. Elizabeth Monroe.”
Her smile, Ian wondered. Was it a sign everything was going to be okay? Or was it a cover, a professional smile she used in times when news wasn’t good? Strange thoughts raced through his mind as he watched the doctor organize her clipboard.
“Is Ian here?” she asked, surveying the group.
“Yes.” Ian felt his lip begin to tremble. “I’m Ian Burke. These… they’re my friends.”
Dr. Monroe addressed the group. “I’d like a few minutes alone with Ian. I’ll call you back here when we’re finished.” When the room had emptied, the doctor sat down next to him and placed her clipboard on an empty chair. “Let’s talk about Harper first. If you have questions, I’ll try and answer them for you.”
He took a deep breath and forced himself to relax his hands.
“A single bullet entered and exited Mr. Callahan’s left arm, and from there it continued on into the left side of his chest, midway between his waist and his shoulder. He was very lucky. Had the bullet entered lower, it would have most certainly taken a path through his spleen or, worse, his stomach. Any higher, and the bullet could have damaged a lung. When the bullet entered, it entered low, traveled several inches through his chest cavity, and shattered a rib. That’s also where the bullet stopped its progression. Do you have any questions so far?”
Ian sat motionless. Images of Harper’s naked, bloodstained torso flashed before him. He shook his head, too overwhelmed to think clearly.
“We were able to remove the bullet, and as of now, he is critical, but all vital signs are stable. As you can imagine, he experienced considerable blood loss. The next few hours will be decisive in determining his recovery. Honestly, I know you want me to tell you he’s going to be okay, and Ian, I would like nothing more than to tell you that. However, there are certain complications involved with his wound that are challenging. The rib was nicked by the bullet, causing a portion of it to shatter into small, sharp pieces. We feel confident we were able to reduce the risk, but there still exists the possibility of his body being injured additionally by the movement of one of these rogue pieces of bone. If anything, find comfort in knowing we are keeping a very close eye on him and monitoring his vital signs continually. For the time being, he’s my priority.”
Ian had wanted to hear something encouraging. He clamped onto the hopeful portions of her comments and hung on for dear life. Every muscle, every nerve in his body had been poised for bad news. It was his nature to expect the worst. Another wave of emotion brought tears to his eyes. He needed to keep it together.
“We’ve moved him out of surgery and into a recovery room where we will be able to monitor for anything problematic.” The doctor didn’t acknowledge Ian’s fragile state.
“Do you think I’ll be able to see him tomorrow?” he found the courage and energy to ask, drying his eyes with his sleeve.
“Most likely you can see him tonight if you’d like. Your group is a little large to all visit at once, but you and another of your friends are welcome to sit with him. He’s sleeping now. We administered anesthesia prior to operating. He’ll come around sometime tonight, and it might be a very good thing for him to see your handsome face when he wakes.”
He blushed. Her warm and caring remark caught him off guard.
“We’re doing everything we can for him. He’s in good hands. You’ll have to trust that. Did the chaplain ask you if any family needed to be contacted? Because of the witnesses and the status of the case, Mr. Callahan’s name has already been leaked by some of the news organizations. The front desk is getting calls regarding his status. If I can update our own staff on the family situation, it will make their jobs easier, and we won’t run the risk of offending anyone while we protect the patient’s right to privacy. In that regard, you’ll have to determine for yourself what you want to share with your friends.”
Ian nodded that he understood. “Is this the kind of thing that makes national news?”
“I would suspect so. Is there something we can do to help?”
He shook his head. “He’s got a grandmother in Iowa. She’ll worry if she doesn’t hear from him. Maybe she’s seen it on the news already. I’ll need to get to her.”
“If she’s elderly, take my advice and tell her only good things. Tell her he’s stabilized, the bullet has been removed, and he’s resting comfortably. You might want to give her an exact time when you will get back to her with another update. We should know more in the morning, and certainly have a better idea of his progress by midday tomorrow.”
“Thank you, that sounds good.”
I wonder what happened to Harper’s phone? I’ll have to ask Brent.
Dr. Monroe stood and moved toward the door.
“Doctor, I can’t thank you enough.” Ian stood.
“How the rest of tonight goes will dictate my schedule. Here’s a number where you can leave a message. I’ll ge
t back to you as quickly as I can.”
He met her halfway and took the scrap of paper.
“They’re usually good about tracking me down. I’ll arrange for someone to give you an update if for some reason I’m not here. Hold a strong thought for your friend.”
Finding a box of tissue on a corner table after the doctor left the room, he blew his nose and sat back down to collect his thoughts.
If anyone is listening, please don’t take him.
He struggled to comprehend what had happened. Exhausted physically and emotionally, he’d almost forgotten he wasn’t here alone. Oh man, everyone’s outside. Ian went to the door and discovered his posse waiting in a small reception area a few feet down the hallway.
“We just have to wait. He’s stable.” He made it as far as Andy before collapsing into his arms. Allison and Spencer closed in around him.
“That’s okay. If there’s hope, that’s all any of us need to know for now, buddy.” Ian felt Spencer’s hand rubbing his back. If there was ever a time in his life he needed his friends, it was right now. It took several minutes for him to work through this last wave of emotion.
“Where’s Brent?” He looked around when he could finally step away and hold his own.
“I’m here.” Brent scurried over to the group. “I was updating Harper’s boss, Duncan Price. He wanted you to know that if there’s anything he or the firm can do, we should let him know.” Brent handed him the partner’s card.
“The doctor said Harper’s—” Ian took in a deep breath. “—stable. I like her. I think he’s in good hands.” He thought about what else he could say. There were a million bits and pieces vying for attention as he tried to make sense of it all. “Brent, I’m worried about Harper’s grandmother. I don’t have her number, but I know it’s on his cell phone. Do you have any idea what happened to it?”
“It’s here.” Brent produced the phone from his pocket. “I took it from Harper’s hand. I’ve talked to Grandma Callahan a bunch of times over the years. She’s a sweet lady. I don’t mind calling her.”
